


The View from Here

by SeraphJewel



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-04-28 01:19:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 13,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14438388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeraphJewel/pseuds/SeraphJewel
Summary: Philip Carlyle lives a life of comfortable wealth. He is successful and has standing invitations to every social event in town. Yet he is unhappy, stifled in a life he doesn't truly want. Still, it is the only option he has... until a fateful encounter offers him something else.





	1. Typical Evening

He could feel his body starting to sober up as the second act dragged on. He timed it that way so the drinks that came after the curtain fell would be a bit more socially acceptable. That was the way his parents described it. As long as he stood dutifully by his mother's side, she and his father turned a blind eye to him doing so with a glass of champagne at his lips.

Philip wondered how many he would need to get through for this evening to be tolerable. He readied his best tight-lipped smile.

Philip made it past the first conversation with strategic sips. Strategic in the sense that it began with sips and he slowly worked his way up to longer and longer swallows. If he paced it right, no one would notice. And he would be taking down half a glass in one swallow.

“... isn't that right, Philip?” His mother was addressing him, but he hadn't been paying any attention to the conversation. Not that he needed to in order to guess at the topic. Or the expected response to his mother's prompting.

“Absolutely, Mother.” He punctuated the statement by draining his glass. He caught her frown but she wouldn't say anything to him here. The waiter had perfect timing and Philip switched his empty glass for a full one, draining it much less covertly.

“I see your son is enjoying the refreshments,” someone remarked to his parents, purposefully keeping their voice loud enough for him to hear. Philip took another defiant sip. _Why don't you come out and say it? You're calling me a drunk and we all know it._

“It is indeed excellent champagne,” he said out loud. “I imagine everyone will be serving it at their next party.” This inspired his mother to boast about all the parties they were invited to thanks to the success of Philip's play in London.

The evening wore on and by the end of it, Philip had put away two more glasses of champagne. Not the most he ever drank in one evening.

“I only hope you will manage to pace yourself a bit better when we go to the ballet,” his father commented.

“The ballet?”

“Yes, Philip, the ballet.” His mother let out an impatient sigh. “Some of New York's prominent families have their daughters performing a recital, and they have invited us to attend. You said you would be escorting me.” Did he? Philip replayed the evening in his mind and let out a long sigh.

Not that he had anything against the ballet. It was more what happened after the curtain fell that made him unethusiastic. But going would please his parents. So he would go with his mother on his arm, though he would make no promises on pacing himself.

Being overly fond of spirits was scandalous, to be sure, but better that than snub an invitation and cause embarrassment.


	2. The Circus

Ever since he got back to the city, all Philip heard about was Barnum's Circus. No one had ever heard of this man before and initially dismissed him as an eccentric when he bought a building to turn it into a “museum of curiosities”. But once he started advertising his acts, everyone took notice. He made it impossible _not_ to notice.

What was more, Barnum seemed to take delight in shocking people. His acts ranged from a giant to a wild dog man to a bearded woman, and he displayed them all as if they were as magnificent as prima ballerinas. When given a negative review, he used it as a way to sell tickets. He twisted a word meant to scorn and turned it into a celebration.

Philip was completely baffled. What must living like that feel like? His most shocking act was getting drunk in the reception room following a show of his play, and he'd only done that because everyone around him was being so suffocating.

He couldn't deny it-- he was intrigued by the circus. But even being among the crowd would risk his inheritance. Still, there was no harm in passing by. So Philip made sure his carriage rolled by the building just as the show was ending.

The people were talking and laughing, gesticulating energetically. Even from his carriage he could see the happiness on their faces. A few of the children were play-acting as the dog man or the little general. So much enthusiasm for low-brow humbug. Watching them gave Philip an almost painful ache in his chest. In all his years, he never saw anyone so much as crack a smile upon exiting a ballet or one of his plays. Those crowds were hushed and dignified, subdued and proper.

His eyes were glued to the circus and he twisted in his seat to keep watching until the carriage turned a corner and it was out of sight. He knew it wasn't for the likes of him, so why did it feel like his heart was being pulled there?

Philip needed to concentrate on his play. He dutifully endured every show and stood through every reception. One particular night, though, he was feeling especially stifled. He stepped out into the cool air and withdrew a flask from his pocket. Usually a few glasses of champagne would be enough to get him through but for special occasions, he needed the strength of whiskey. And being out here made it less likely he would feel judging eyes.

Of all the places for Barnum to approach him, of course it would be there.

That energy and brazenness was clearly not part of his act. He exuded larger-than-life confidence and never for a moment seemed to doubt whether Philip would buy what he was selling. With good reason: Philip was enchanted. He kept thinking longingly of those happy people exiting the show. Certainly his play sold out, but did any of those attending like it with that kind of passion?

“You understand,” he sighed, “that just associating with you would cost me my inheritance?”

“Oh, it would cost you a lot more than that,” Barnum replied. “You'd be risking everything. But then again, maybe you'd find yourself a free man. I can see it in your eyes, Mister Carlyle: you're trapped, unhappy. You said it yourself that the high-brows are suffocating, and friend, I'm offering you somewhere to breathe. Break out of the sensible conventions that wall you in and really _live_.”

Somehow Barnum managed to hit the nail perfectly on the head. Philip stared at his shot glass, feeling the ache start to grow inside him. The older man made it sound so easy. Yes, the world of the circus would be thrilling and exciting, but Barnum said it himself: Philip would be risking everything. Not just his inheritance but his good standing in society. They would forgive his drinking but never working in the circus.

“I think I'm good where I am, Mister Barnum. I happen to enjoy my life.” He pushed away, grabbing his things to leave. “I admire you and your show, but I can't have any part of it. I'm okay with the part I play; I have everything I need. I'm not in some cage.” Philip wasn't sure which of them he was trying to convince with those words, but it clearly wasn't working on Barnum.

“So you're really okay with a life of misery? Drinking your way from one party to the next?”

“Better than being disgraced and disowned,” Philip retorted.

“Is it?” Barnum challenged him. “Philip, do you even hear what you're saying? Settling for an 'okay' life when you could be a part of something so much more colorful, a place where you're allowed to dream big? I'm offering you a chance to break down those walls. To me, that seems like a risk worth taking. But...” He shrugged his shoulders. “It's up to you.”

Philip stood absorbing every word. He wanted it; from the moment his eyes first saw the circus building he wanted to be a part of it. How ironic that the Prince of Humbug would force him to see the truth of his heart. Philip took in a slow breath. He could almost visualize the tie binding him to the life he knew. 

And he pulled away from it, smiling. “So how much would be my cut?”


	3. Peanut Shells

Eager to get started, Barnum insisted they go to the circus immediately. Philip was overwhelmed the moment he stepped inside. There were live animals and people spouting fire from their mouths and he was clearly out of his element. So much activity and they weren't even performing yet. There was no time to take in any of it. He scrambled to keep up.

A shadow loomed over him and he turned to gape at the Irish Giant. Philip stumbled back and almost fell onto General Tom Thumb. He'd known their names and saw their faces in Barnum's relentless advertising but now he was in their presence. Aside from a startled expression from the giant and an annoyed one from the general, they ignored him and continued to prepare for their cue. His head was still spinning but Philip had enough sense to tip his hat when he saw the bearded lady. The gesture made her laugh.

He was really going to work with these people. He headed toward the roaring crowd, now excited to see the next act.

And the world stopped, the noise dimmed, and there was only her. She swooped through the air with fearless grace and poise. Her momentum carried her right to him and it seemed like she was reaching out, beckoning. For a brief moment their eyes connected and Philip was struck by the intensity of her gaze. He couldn't move, couldn't think. Then the moment broke and she was swinging away, taking his heart with her.

Philip was still in a daze when Barnum introduced them. She was even more breathtaking now she was still long enough to take her in: the way her hair was swept up, elegant and bold in its unusual color; the way her costume made it look like she had wings.

“And what is your act, Mister Carlyle?” she asked him.

His words came out clumsy and awkward. “I... I don't have an act.” Something about this statement amused her.

“Everyone's got an act.” The way her eyes flicked over him spoke of a deeper meaning behind her words. Philip watched her until she was out of sight. She didn't walk so much as glide. His attention did not please Anne's brother, and he quickly side-stepped away to catch up with Barnum.

Outside a crowd had formed with signs and torches, yelling at any who walked past. Philip was stunned by their anger. He knew from the start that some disapproved of Barnum's show, but he foolishly believed it was just upper-class snobbery dismissing what they believed was beneath them. This was actual hatred, spewing words like “freak” and “spook”.

“How long has this been going on?” he asked Barnum.

“I'd say from our first show. I had to break up a fight once, and since then I've kept everyone inside after shows.” Laughter erupted from the audience, a sharp contrast to the angry cries outside; it was almost like this door was a threshold between two worlds. He was starting to truly understand why Barnum wanted him.

“Then I'll stay back too and meet everyone.”

Barnum gathered his players together once the audience was gone and everyone was out of their costumes. Introductions were made and Philip shook hands all around, some a bit more wary of him than others. He could still see a soldier's strength in Charles Stratton, the captivating presence of Lettie Lutz, a quiet gentleness from Vasily Pavlov-- the Irish Giant. And then there was Anne Wheeler. With her hair now free of the wig, he could see it was pulled into a bun with a few stray ringlets framing her face. She now wore a simple dress with a shawl thrown over her shoulders. Even without her stage makeup, she was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Philip lingered on her a moment longer than anyone else.

How could anyone look at these incredible people and think _freak_? “It'll be a pleasure working with all of you,” Philip told them.

The others went about gathering their things and setting up for the show tomorrow. Philip walked the space backstage to get a better sense of things and to let his brain catch up with everything that he'd seen so far. He made his way to the ring and smiled to himself, bending down to pick up a discarded peanut shell.

“Be careful,” a voice warned. He glanced up and saw Anne on the other side of the ring. She was winding a rope through her fingers. “I'm resetting for tomorrow and I wouldn't want a sand bag to startle you.”

“Thank you for the warning.” He watched her work for a moment. She worked the rope into a knot and weaved it through a hook, tugging on it to be sure it was secure. Satisfied, she moved on to the next rope. Philip continued his walk around the ring with his head tilted toward her.

“I've been thinking of where I've heard your name before,” she mentioned after a moment. “Don't you produce plays?”

“Until tonight. Have you ever been?” Anne froze at the question, giving him a strange look. Slowly her lips quirked up in a smile and she shook her head. “That's all right. I won't take it personally.” That got her to laugh and he shot her a grin, his heart fluttering.

The two of them continued their respective work, Philip trying to busy himself so he would have an excuse to linger. He asked for her impressions of the circus and they both agreed Barnum was larger-than-life but impossible not to believe in, even when his ideas seemed crazy. Anne secured the last of her ropes far too soon.

“Will we be seeing you tomorrow, Mister Carlyle?”

“Absolutely. And you can call me Philip, Miss Wheeler.”

She paused, considering him for a long moment. Finally: “It's Anne.”


	4. Disowned

Coming home that night felt so odd to him, to see that place of order and stability after the spectacle of the circus and the chaos of the protesters. It seemed unreal. Philip opened the door to find his mother pacing the entry way.

“Philip!” she cried, rushing toward him. “Where have you been?! We expected you home hours ago!” Her eyes searched his appearance, a thin frown pulling at her lips. “Were you out drinking?”

“No, Mother.” He took a breath, steeling himself for the reaction. “I was at the circus. Mister Barnum hired me tonight.”

“The...” His mother choked, clasping a hand to her breast. “Philip, please. I can't handle any more shock tonight. You can't actually mean that.”

“But I do. I'll be working at the circus from now on.”

His mother stared at him, her face growing pale. She swallowed and cried out for his father: “Roland! Roland, come quickly!” She took a step back from her son like the circus was something she could catch if she stood too close. Philip stared resolutely forward. In a few moments his father arrived, swiftly taking in the state of his wife and son.

“Well, Philip, you certainly gave your mother a fright. Just what--”

“He says he was hired by that Barnum man.” His mother gravitated closer to her husband. “He says he was _there_ tonight.” His father's face turned to stone.

“It's true,” Philip spoke up. His parents looked almost wary of him, as if he was a stranger in their home. Philip gripped the brim of his hat tighter. “I watched some of the show and later met with all of the performers. I'll be going back tomorrow to help them with their show.”

“You absolutely will not!” his father snapped. “Just what did you think you were doing, going to that place and associating with those... people? What if someone saw you? And your play! You're really going to drag your good name through the mud by working for some degrading side-show?”

Philip's knuckles were starting to turn white. His ears could still hear the laughter and joy of the crowd, his body still humming with the energy of the show. With that taste of freedom still fresh on his tongue, Philip couldn't make himself regret his choice even knowing what was to come from it.

“It's my name to do with as I wish.”

“But it won't be _my_ name,” his father huffed. “You are disgrace to it. If you insist on doing this, then as far as I'm concerned, I no longer have a son.” With that he turned and stalked away. Philip's mother hovered uncertainly for a moment before hurrying off after her husband.

Philip walked numbly to his room, carelessly throwing his hat and coat on the floor and collapsing still fully-clothed on his bed. He knew there would be a blowout, but wasn't expecting that last verbal slap to the face. It wouldn't take long before everyone in their social circle knew what happened. He could already imagine the indignation of his father's friends and the scandalized horror of his mother's. They would make it clear they wanted nothing to do with him and his activities to save themselves the shame of association and the rest would follow, quietly and unanimously turning their backs on him.

He ran a hand down his face. Over on his desk was a pile of correspondences waiting to be answered, mostly invitations to parties. Those would likely be the last ones he received. People he'd known his entire life would want nothing to do with him now. When they did bring him up in conversation, it would be to lament over how degrading he was and extend sympathy to his parents. It was likely the only reason he wasn't kicked out of the house was his parents were hoping for a last-minute change of heart, that he would come to his senses and beg them for forgiveness. Who knew how they would react once they realized Philip was never going back.

Was he crazy? He just gave up his entire life. Going from a place of certainty, stability and wealth to something unknown, unpredictable and financially risky. Then again, he never felt more free or more excited to work. The thought of tomorrow energized him for the first time in his memory.

And the one thing he was most concerned about just hours before, the loss of his inheritance, no longer seemed to matter.


	5. Voyage

People quickly went from protesting to celebrating once the papers reported that Barnum's circus was invited to an audience with the queen. The crowd for their last show before departure was sold out and Barnum made it the most spectacular yet, as if eager to leave an imprint of all the people would be missing while the circus was gone.

Philip helped load the cargo while those with families seeing them off could exchange good-byes. He saw Charles with his mother and the Wheeler siblings hugging their parents. Philip didn't even bother looking for his own parents. They still refused to acknowledge him so he didn't bother telling them where he was going. He doubted they would even notice his absence.

Eventually he had to come down and help pry Helen off her father. She latched onto him instead and Philip gave her a hug before handing her over to her mother. Philip checked one last time to be sure everyone was on board, then signaled the captain that they could sail off. Barnum flashed his confident smile and waved at the crowd until he could no longer hear them.

“That went well,” Barnum declared. “Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to talk to the captain and see how fast he can push this thing. We want to get to London as soon as possible.”

“Don't you want to check with the others and see how they're settling in first?” Philip asked him.

“Hm?” Barnum was already moving away. “Oh, I'm sure they're fine.” Before Philip could think of a response, Barnum was off.

Getting an audience with the queen was the easy part. Arranging boarding on the boat that would take them there was considerably more difficult. They ended up taking up the entire boat by themselves between the people, the props and the costumes. Just finding a ship captain and crew willing to sail with them was a struggle and even when Philip managed it, the crew declared they would have as little contact with their passengers as possible.

Entering the costume storage, Philip found a few of the acts checking on their outfits. They gave him a distracted greeting before focusing back on their tasks. He smiled and moved on to see how the others were finding their temporary living quarters. Some were already unpacking while others were simply taking in the space.

“Excuse me, Mister Carlyle.” He turned at the deep voice. Vasily stood behind him awkwardly, hunched over to accommodate his large size. “This space is very small.”

“I know it's not ideal,” Philip agreed, “but it was the best we could arrange.” He paused and took a mental count of everyone he'd seen so far. “This isn't everyone.”

“A few people are experiencing seasickness,” he was told.

“I'll check on them. You should all take a walk around deck. We'll be living here for a while, so might as well get to know your way around. I'll see everyone at dinner.” They murmured assessment and Philip went off in search of their seasick companions. Though there was little he could do for them other than offer his company.

He sat with the afflicted performers until it was time for dinner, distracting them with stories of his last time in England. None of them were enthused at the idea of food so after making sure they would be all right, Philip went off to join the others. It was a simpler meal than what he was accustomed to taking but he found himself enjoying it much more than any meal he ever shared with his parents. They all talked to each other, for one thing, more concerned with being together than in table manners or proper etiquette.

Before they all turned in for the night, Philip caught Vasily and pulled him aside. “Hey, the captain told me that they have an empty room. It's a lot bigger than the one you have, if you're interested.” The man's face broke out into a smile big enough to match his size. “But I want to be fair to everyone,” Philip added, “so we may rotate every few days or so and give everyone a chance to a private room.”

“That is good,” Vasily agreed. “Thank you, Mister Carlyle.”

“Just give me a few minutes to arrange the furniture so you can stretch out comfortably when you sleep.” _And give me time to take out my luggage,_ he mentally added. He hoped that "dog boy" Walter wouldn't mind having him as a roommate.

The room rotation turned out to be a great idea, as it gave him time with each of the male performers. He got to know them as a group during meals and tried to talk with them while they were stretching their legs on the boat. He encouraged Barnum to do the same but eventually stopped after so many declines.

One night Philip couldn't sleep, so he threw on some clothes and took a turn around the deck. He was halfway around when he noticed he wasn't the only one evading sleep. Anne was standing leaning against the railing, her head tiled up toward the night sky. Philip cleared his throat so he wouldn't startle her when he moved to join her. He saw her during meals and with her brother or Lettie, but this was the first chance he got to be alone with her.

“How are you liking it out at sea so far?”

“A little strange,” she admitted. “I never dreamed I would be going to England and meeting Queen Victoria. Thank you, by the way, for making sure my brother and I could go.”

“It didn't even occur to me to go without either of you.” Which was true. When she asked if they were _all_ invited, Philip was a little puzzled by the question. The awkward silence from everyone else had been his clue to her concerns. His words earned him a smile and he dared to inch just a little closer. “So... couldn't sleep?”

“I just like looking at the stars,” she explained. “Some say you can tell about a person based on what the stars were like on the day they were born. Their whole past and future right there in the sky.”

"So the stars determined that you would do the trapeze?"

"I don't know about _that_ ,” she laughed. “I bet if the stars had their way, my brother and I would be doing something completely different.”

“Doesn't sound like the stars know everything about you,” he pointed out. “When I watch you and your brother, you both seem so natural.”

That earned him yet another smile. “When we were kids, there was this big tree with a tire swing. We're not sure who put it up, but my brother found it one day. I was watching him swing on it and decided I wanted to do it, too. I just ran toward him; it didn't even occur to me that he would hit me. Our parents were so mad when they found out... But I ran out, and he grabbed me. It was the most amazing feeling in the world.”

Philip said nothing, content to watch her light up as she talked of the days swinging on that tire with her brother, and how they worked their way up higher and higher.

“It's like you rewrote the stars,” he concluded.

“Yeah,” she agreed, warming him with more smiling. “I guess we did.”

"I think you're amazing," he told her. "That's amazing," he quickly corrected. The way she looked at him made his heart race and though it was difficult to be sure, he thought maybe she was blushing a little. She stepped back, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. She bade him a goodnight and slipped away.

Philip didn't get another chance to catch her alone, but every now and then they would glance at each other and exchange little smiles or looks. If anyone else noticed, Philip didn't care.


	6. A Bit Visible

After their audience with the queen, the circus performers didn't seem to know what to do with themselves. They clustered together, their costumes making them stand out even more. Philip's eye drew to them and settled on Anne. Her usual poised confidence was gone, replaced by discomfort as she pulled the cape of her costume to cover herself. Philip longed to go to her... but of course Barnum commanded his attention.

Listening to Barnum chat up Jenny Lind made Philip long for something he hadn't touched in months: a drink. He idly wondered if either of them would even notice if he just walked away and joined the troupe. He was starting to wish he had worn a costume too; at least then he could be out of place with them.

The ship taking them home was, predictably, much nicer than the one that brought them. Only the best for the Swedish Nightingale. Though the troupe still ended up being shoved in small quarters, and Philip was uncertain Jenny Lind would volunteer her lavish room. For his part, Philip immediately pulled aside one of the performers to enjoy the “spare room”.

“I can't believe that happened again,” Charles commented once the performer left to settle in.

“Really? You can't believe P. T. went over-the-top and got more rooms than we needed?” Philip retorted with a quirked eyebrow. Charles conceded the point but Philip doubted they were all completely fooled. They were far too accustomed to Barnum's humbug.

At dinner they all recounted their impressions of the royal court. Now that they were away from it, they could laugh more easily over Charles's bold words to the queen. He looked rather pleased with himself and was glad to repeat the words over and over, to the delight of the troupe. They went on to discuss fashion, the size of the palace and its court, eventually extending out to what they saw of London itself. Philip mostly listened, happy just to see the looks on their faces. The conversation found its way to Jenny Lind, but Philip had little to offer them apart from what he gleaned from her conversation with Barnum.

He would be hearing her sing for the first time right along with the rest of them.

As they got closer to New York harbor, he could see the performers getting excited. On the way to London they had gotten increasingly more quiet. In the time he worked with them, Philip never saw them so nervous as when they donned their costumes to meet with the queen. Once they left there was an inaudible but still obvious sigh of relief from the troupe. And from Philip. They were all glad to be back on the ship heading to where the circus building was waiting to be filled with cheering crowds.

He wondered what sort of reception they would get at the docks. How people would see the circus after weeks of absence and with the royal seal of approval. Philip wanted to plan their first show back, but Barnum tasked him instead with Jenny Lind's big American debut. Barnum must have thought that since Philip got them an audience with the queen, he could guarantee a theater for an opera singer. With all the strings he would need to pull, Philip might as well join the orchestra.

He was puzzling over the promotional material when he saw Anne. “Hey,” she greeted him. “You're working late.”

“Yeah. Barnum wants everything ready for Miss Lind's debut, and I didn't want to disturb my bunk mate.” He put his work aside for a moment so he could focus on her. “Out to look at the stars again?”

“Just eager to get back to New York. Being on this ship is making me restless.”

“I understand. You want to be up in the air again. It's why your costume has wings: you were made to fly.” She gave him a strange room, then broke out into a smile.

“Not many people notice that.” She sat down next to him closer than they'd been before. “I can't wait to tell my parents that we met the queen.”

“Tell them the story of Charles calling her short,” Philip advised with a mischievous look. She laughed and for a moment, when their eyes met, Philip thought they were going to move closer and maybe even touch. But she stood up again before he could move his hand.

“Try not to work too late, all right? You need a good night's sleep to keep up with Barnum.”

“I'm not sure even that would be enough,” he retorted dryly. They laughed together at this, exchanging good-nights. Anne lingered for a moment longer before going off to bed.

Next time. He would definitely reach for her hand next time.

The night of Jenny Lind's debut finally arrived. On the same night that they had a circus performance, which Philip thought was uncharacteristically bad planning on Barnum's part. Barnum gave them just enough time to enjoy the concert and maybe a few drinks before their show. Since Barnum was too preoccupied with last-minute preparations, Philip was the one to meet the troupe when they arrived. And he froze, gaping at Anne. He would never stop being struck by her beauty. He loved the way her hat glittered when she moved and the butterfly design on her dress suited her.

“Wow,” he breathed. “You look amazing.” A faint blush crossed her cheeks but she fought not to react too openly to the compliment. “You all look amazing,” Philip amended. “Lettie, you're beautiful.” His eyes quickly darted in Anne's direction and she took in a sharp breath. Lettie was startled but pleasantly flattered by his words. “P. T.'s been a little preoccupied and hasn't given me your seating yet. I'll be right back.”

 _Preoccupied_ was a kind word for it. He never saw Barnum looking so scattered before. The man was usually so confident and put together that seeing him unsure and distracted was a little unsettling. Philip felt he had to use stage names just so the man would know what he was talking about.

“Tom, Lettie, the others, they've just arrived. Where should I put them? Your box?”

“Box? No, that's a bit visible...”

“Visible?” Philip echoed in disbelief.

“The acoustics are actually better in the standing room,” Barnum went on, “that's where they should be.” Philip could only stand, dumbstruck, as Barnum rushed off to see to Jenny. 

Did that really just happen? Philip couldn't imagine what the troupe was thinking as they filed together in the standing room, but as soon as he was able he joined them. He found a spot next to Anne and moved to stand beside her. She glanced his way for a moment before focusing her eyes forward again. They all stood there not reacting as Barnum promised his high-brow audience that this would not be _some side-show novelty_. 

Jenny began her solo and Philip sensed this was his opportunity. With a quick glance out of the corner of his eye, he began to carefully inch his fingers close to Anne's. His skin brushed hers and felt her pinky twitch to brush back. Both of them kept their eyes firmly fixed forward as their fingers linked together. He could see the smile on her lips. Philip's heart was going wild in his chest. Her hand felt warm and strong in his, calloused from her years gripping onto trapeze bars and ropes.

It was one of the best moments of his life. But then Philip let his eyes wander and he saw them: his parents. They chose _now_ to notice him, his father whispering something to his mother and she turning to stare at him. Philip quickly pulled his hand away. He kept his eyes forward but he could sense Anne's on him. He had no idea what her expression was and wasn't brave enough to look, but eventually she turned away and walked out.

The absence of her was like a painful hole. But he kept staring forward, betraying nothing as he trained himself for years to do.

The troupe eagerly gathered to meet with Jenny Lind. Philip declined when they suggested he join them, saying he needed to be at the circus before the show started. It was true, but the way Lettie eyed him made him feel like she knew why he really wanted to be there.

Philip could hear the protesters before he saw them, shouting at anyone who dared get close to the circus building. They held up signs like “Go Home Freaks” and “Protect Our Children”. It made him sick to think Anne had to walk by them on her own. Inside Philip buried himself in preparations, though he kept his eyes out for Anne.

A crowd gathered despite the protesters and Philip finally saw Anne among the other performers in their opening act. She somehow sensed him watching and looked right at him. Her expression was fierce and defiant.

He didn't need words to understand what she was saying: _I'm not scared to be seen. I make no apologies. This is me!_ Philip gave a little nod and backed away.

She didn't care that she was a bit visible; she never did. Caring about being visible was all Philip had ever known: saying the right things, knowing the right people, going to the right events, wearing the right clothes. He hated every minute of it, but he just proved to Anne he still cared.

And he couldn't. Not anymore.


	7. His Place

Since Barnum was still busy with high society, Philip put on the red coat to lead the circus. It was easy hyping up the crowd for each act. His own enthusiasm and awe for the performers cane through his voice. Barnum always had some wild and exciting story to tell; Philip went a different route and used what he knew of the performers, with only a little embellishing.

Philip stood at the exit to interact with the audience one last time. Strange... When he produced plays, he either avoided the audience or drank his way through when he couldn't. Here, he loved watching the smiles as they exited, their enthusiasm when he encouraged them to come back. One of the children clung to his leg instead of going with their parents.

“Ask your parents to bring you back, buddy,” Philip advised the kid, hoisting them up and carrying them out. “We'll be here, I promise.”

Outside it looked like the protesters grew in numbers. Philip quickly found the child's parents so they could leave. All the joy was gone from everyone's faces. Philip patted the kid on the head then turned to go back inside, being sure to look a few of the protesters in the eye as he passed them.

“Hey!” one of them shouted. “You should never have brought those freaks back!” He ignored this and kept walking. Another spat at him, narrowly missing the sleeve of his coat.

He was shaking a little when he got back inside. He'd never been spat at before.

Everyone else was going about business as usual, hanging up costumes and giving the animals one last rub-down. He passed Anne but she was determined not to acknowledge him. Philip reluctantly moved on. Barnum still hadn't shown up and no one seemed to think he would. He was probably still soaking in praise for Jenny.

“Can everyone gather in the ring?” Philip requested. “Everyone in the ring, please.” He stood in the center waiting for the others to gather around. “Tonight was a great show. But don't take my word for it, or even the crowd's. If you feel like you put on a great performance, then hold onto that. And I'll see all of you back here tomorrow to do it all again. Have a good night.”

They all bade him a good night in return and stared to leave. He tried to catch Anne's eye and she again ignored him. But there was someone else who was lingering, watching him.

“Something wrong, Lettie?”

“You tell me. Anne walked out of the concert before it was over and has been avoiding you ever since. What happened?” Philip was too stunned to answer. She let out a little laugh. “I'm not blind, Carlylye. The two of you have been making eyes at each other from the moment you joined the circus. So what happened?”

Philip let out a sigh, brushing his fingers through his hair. “At the concert, I reached out to her. We were holding hands. But then I saw someone looking at us and I let go.”

“No wonder she's avoiding you.” Lettie shook her head at him. “People look at us all the time, Carlyle. You've seen the protesters; you know what people really think of us. We have to live with that every day. But you don't, Carlyle, and the first taste of it you got, you pulled away.”

There was nothing Philip could say, because she was right. The way his parents looked at him, wondering what they were saying about him... That was what made him retreat. “So you're saying I have to show her I can live with it, too.” 

“No,” she corrected with a smile, “ _you're_ saying that.” She gave him a meaningful look and left him at that.

If he was going to do this, there were some preparations he needed to make. Too late to start tonight, but he would rise early the next morning so everything would be in place.

“All you have to do is tell Anne that there's a ticket for her at the box office,” he told Barnum. “Tell her you left it for her.”

“And why am I doing this again?” Barnum wondered.

“Because I've never asked for a favor before.” And because it felt like the only way Anne would go. She was still behaving stiffly toward Philip, though he stood out with them for every performance and helped clean up after the crowds were gone. This could be his only shot to prove to her he could handle the stares and the whispers and whatever else he got for being with her.

He got so caught up in trying to get Barnum to care about the circus that he almost missed meeting with her. Luckily Lettie was there to hurry him on his way. And there was Anne, looking so vibrant and beautiful. She gave him the first warm smile he'd seen from her in a while and he excitedly tucked her hand under his arm. He couldn't wait for her to experience a night at the theater, and couldn't believe he was so lucky as to be by her side.

“Philip, is that you?” He knew that voice. There they were again, staring at him from across the staircase. Philip took a breath, straightened his spine and looked them square in the face. He hoped he looked as fiercely defiant as he felt.

“Mother, Father. This is Anne Wheeler.”

“Philip,” his father huffed. “Have you no shame? Getting mixed up in that Barnum business is one thing, but parading around with the help...” Before Philip could react, Anne had slid her arm out of his and was heading out of the theater. He tried to call her back but she was already gone.

He wheeled back toward his parents. He wasn't sure whether he felt sickened or furious. “How dare you speak to her like that.”

“Philip, please.” His mother caught his elbow as he tried to follow after Anne. “You forget your place.”

“My place?” Philip pulled away from her grasp. “Mother, if this is my place, I want no part of it.” He hurried out the door but Anne was nowhere to be seen. He knew where he could find her, though.

No, he hadn't forgotten his place. He knew exactly where it was, and that was where he needed to be right now.


	8. Impossible

Philip ran back to the circus, shedding his coat once he got inside. He didn't bother searching anywhere else; he knew exactly where Anne would be. She was already making the final preparations for going up when he spotted her. Of course: after what happened, she would be longing for the rush of flying through the air and the intense concentration it demanded of her body.

"Anne..." Philip knelt down before her, trying to catch her eye. "They're small-minded people." He tried to reach for her hand but she pulled it back. "Why do you care what they think?"

"It's not just them." Her breath caught, like she was struggling to hold back a sob. "You've never had someone look at you the way your parents looked at me. The way everyone would look at us..." She moved away to start on her routine. She was right, but that was the whole goal of tonight, to show her he didn't care how people would look at them.

"Anne, you know I want to be with you. I'm not very subtle about it. And I know you feel the same way, so don't tell me we can't be together." She was ignoring him, but Philip just drew closer, trying to get her to listen. "I remember the first night I saw you, Anne. It felt like the rest of the world slowed down and it was just us. I decided at that moment you were my destiny and no one's going to stop me from believing that."

She had untwisted one of the ropes and was pulling it with her to the center of the ring. Philip followed, determined to make her hear him. He boldly touched her, pulling on the rope to make her come back when she walked away.

"What if we just ignored what everyone else tells us and decide for ourselves? We shouldn't let them keep us apart." He brushed his fingers down her cheek, into her hair, and her smile appeared. "No one can tell us who we get to be, Anne. I wanted to show you tonight that I don't care what they say or think as long as we're together."

His hand was at her waist and she leaned in, but at the last moment flew up into the air, carried by the rope. Startled, Philip searched around until he found her sitting in her hoop. "You make it sound so easy," she retorted as she descended again. "You think I _don't_ want to be with you? There are just some obstacles we can't get past, Philip. And I know you don't understand because we can just be ourselves here in the circus. But once we go out into the world, you're going to see that the whole thing is hopeless."

Philip tried to grip onto the hoop, to get her to stay, but it slipped out of his grip and she was gone again. "How can you talk about destiny?" she called down to him. "It can't be that I was 'meant' to find you, not with how the world would see us."

She did one of her tricks with the rope to come back down where Philip was ready to catch her. He curled his hand around the rope. If he couldn't make her understand from his point of view, he would do it from hers. "Anne..." He breathed out her name, wrapping an arm around her to keep her secured as the rope lifed them both into the air. "I would fly with you," he told her. Hoping she understood all the feelings in between.

"And I would fall with you," she responded, dropping down and pulling him with her. A lump formed in his throat with all she was saying in those few words.

Their eyes met and in that intense gaze was everything they weren't saying. Their longing for each other, how much they wished they could have more, the pressures of expectation and the scorn of society. They defied all of it as individuals to establish who they truly were, but how could they do the same as a couple? It felt like a much more daunting task. _Say that it's possible,_ they pleaded to each other. They both wanted to believe.

And wasn't that what Barnum's Circus was all about? People believing in the impossible? Maybe it was the rush of briefly soaring with her, but Philip understood what he had to do. He climbed up to the second level, waiting for just the right moment to leap into her arms. It was completely reckless and dangerous, but he trusted her to be there and catch him. And from the way her face glowed at him as they slowly made their way back to the ground, he could tell Anne understood the thought behind his gesture.

They stood there together, him breathing heavily but grinning. But Anne's glow had faded and her expression was grim, causing his own to drop.

"You know I want to be with you," she whispered to him. "But Philip, I can't-- I can't have you. Something is bound to break us. I'm sorry." She pushed his hand away and walked out, leaving him standing alone in the dark.

Philip could feel something breaking, all right: his heart. He couldn't understand why, if she wanted him just as he did her, she would push him away. His hand was shaking as he wiped at his face. So Anne didn't think they could be together. Philip would respect that, but he wasn't going to stop standing beside her. He would rather take whatever came by doing that than keeping his distance.

The circus needed him to be the ringmaster with Barnum gone, so he focused his energy into that. Backstage everyone could tell something had changed inside him. Their spirits were dampened, too: the protests outside were just getting worse. The protesters were starting to shift the tone inside as well, yelling and throwing things after Anne and W. D. finished their act.

Philip went out to the ring, taking Anne by the hand. Their eyes met, her surprised and his determined. The yelling just got angrier but Philip stood facing them with Anne by his side.

He didn't know if this would be enough to convince her, and if it wasn't there would still be no regrets. People were looking at him just the way she warned and he remained unbroken, but only because he felt Anne's hand in his own to anchor him.


	9. Fire

Philip stood giving their audience some last-minute energy as always, encouraging them to come back and tell their friends about the fun of the circus. With their gate down and protests getting worse by the night, they needed all the positive word-of-mouth they could get.

The seats were mostly empty now, but a few people chose to linger. Philip's smile fell-- he knew these men. They were in the audience before, jeering and throwing things when the acts took their bows.

“Gentlemen.” He looked them each in the eye calmly. “I'm going to have to ask you to leave.”

“This is our town, son. We think _you_ should leave.” He caught movement and saw W. D. stand beside him. His presence boosted Philip's courage. “You and your freaks, and your spooks.”

Philip took a deep breath. “Sir, I will only ask you once more.”

“Then what, boy?”

It was like some unknown signal: W. D. threw a punch. The protesters fought back, one of them cracking Philip across the face. The force of it made him stumble back into the arms of more men. They grabbed him, punching his chest and stomach as he struggled to free himself. Philip's eyes were slightly unfocused and he could barely breathe. A flurry of motion and noise announced the arrival of more performers. Finally someone managed to pull his attackers off. At some point he lost his ringmaster's coat, but that hardly mattered anymore. The pain made it difficult but Philip forced himself to move out of the way.

He doubled over, coughing. The fight was escalating by the second. It had somehow spread out to the animals; Philip could hear them panicking. And there was something wrong with the air. It made him dizzy to breathe and not just because his ribs were probably bruised and his attackers tried to choke him.

“Fire!” someone shouted. “The building's on fire!”

It was enough to break up the fight. The rioters rushed out and the performers hurried to the source. Flames had spread up the walls and along the ropes. Philip could tell it wasn't a question of putting it out, but of how much they could save.

“O'Malley!” he called out. “Walter! Hurry and release the animals! Don't worry about the costumes and the props! Everyone else, pair up and head toward the exit! Vasily, you get in front so we can see where we're going!”

Everyone quickly obeyed. Philip could hear someone coughing through the growing smoke and saw Lettie on the ground nursing a wounded ankle. He got down on his knees to help her, slinging her arm across her shoulders and hoisting her back on her feet. Together they raced as fast as they could to the exit.

“Everyone, stick together!” Philip reminded them.

They made it outside where a crowd had gathered. Barnum was among them, watching his circus burn in stunned horror. “Philip, is everybody out? Is everyone okay?” He thought so but did a quick scan of faces to be sure. Philip knew every member of the circus well after spending weeks with them on their way to and from England, and the days standing in for Barnum. As he found each familiar face, there was one noticeably absent. A deep feeling of dread settled into his stomach, worse than the pain from those punches.

“W. D., where's Anne?” The horror in the other man's face was all the answer he needed.

Without a second thought, Philip turned and ran back inside. The flames were intense now, and even as familiar as he was with the circus layout Philip still found himself instantly lost. It was already difficult to breathe and the heat and smoke only made it worse. But none of that mattered as long as he found Anne. Maybe they would never be together and the only way he would ever get to hold her hand was when leading her in a bow after a performance, but at least she would be alive. A world without Anne Wheeler in it was incomprehensible.

“Anne!” Philip called to her. “Anne, where are you?” The snapping of wood as it gave way under the fire's power made it difficult for him to hear, but he was sure he would pick up her voice no matter where she was. “Anne!” It was getting dark on the edges of his vision.

Philip kept pushing forward. He was meant to find her; he knew it from the moment they met, and no matter what he _would_ find her now. He stumbled and felt something sharp cut into him. Heat seared his skin, smoke obstructing his next step forward. His foot caught on something and he fell to the ground, opening a gash in his forehead. Philip's head was spinning... It was so dark and so hot. He couldn't find the strength to move or even keep his eyes opened.

 _Anne..._ He latched onto thoughts of her with all the energy he had left. _Anne..._


	10. More Visible

Philip thought he could hear her voice and it helped pull him out of the darkness. His fingers twitched, aware of someone's hand clasping his. Something about the feel of the hand was familiar to him. Philip slowly opened his eyes. He focused on the most beautiful woman in the world.

“You're here,” he croaked out. _You're alive. You're safe._ She sucked in a sharp breath and leaned into him, cupping his face and pressing a kiss on his mouth. He knew then that this was real: the feel of her mouth was too warm to be a dream. All too soon the contact was broken. Philip smiled up at her, fingers brushing slowly against her cheek, and drew her in for another kiss.

Their lips fit together so perfectly. The rest of the world faded around them. Philip forgot about the pain his body. All that mattered was that he and Anne were finally together the way they were meant to be.

“Excuse me.” Reluctantly Philip broke away to focus on the doctor that approached them. Every staff member had frozen in their duties, staring in shock at the embracing couple. “I'm going to have to ask you to leave. This is a family hospital and we cannot tolerate this kind of indecency.”

“So,” Philip grunted, letting out a weak little cough. “You're releasing me? I have a... clean bill of health?”

“We need you both to leave immediately,” the doctor repeated, barely able to hold back the disgusted curl of his lips.

Philip pushed himself up, Anne's hand on his back to help him. His muscles were aching from lack of use but he managed to get his feet on the floor. He slowly rose with Anne supporting him. The staff were still gaping at them as they made the slow shuffle to the exit, shrinking away when the couple drew close. Philip paid no attention to them; he merely focused on putting one foot in front of the other. At last Philip and Anne made it out into the open air.

“We should get you home,” Anne decided. “Cleaned up and in fresh clothes. But I'm not really looking forward to seeing your parents.”

“You won't have to,” Philip assured her. “After how they treated you, I left. I've been living on my own.” Anne's face widened in surprise. He gave her a little smile before turning his attention over to hailing a carriage for them. But the drivers acted like they didn't even see him. Some even urged their horses to move faster.

“I warned you about this,” Anne reminded him.

“Nevermind,” he said dismissively, reaching to twine their hands together. “We'll walk.” Anne squeezed his hand and together they made their way down the street. Philip could feel the eyes on them, could see the shocked and judging expressions, could hear the nasty comments. He kept his head high and met all of it without flinching.

He knew that it was only going to get worse from here. Philip had a feeling the only reason it wasn't so bad now was because he already looked like he'd taken a beating.

As they walked, he asked Anne to tell him what happened with the circus. She was in the back when the fire started and was trapped trying to find him and her brother. Eventually she found her way out the back where the other performers were gathered. She gripped his hand tighter, her words choking her as she struggled to describe standing there knowing he was still inside. How she felt her heart breaking piece by piece until Barnum emerged with Philip in his arms. Her first sleepless night with him in the hospital, and every anxious moment since waiting for him to wake up. He pulled her closer to assure them both they were alive and together.

Philip needed a moment to process all of it, and luckily they arrived at his loft so he could. It was tiny compared with the mansion he grew up in, but being cut off from his inheritance left him with very little money. And as it turned out, he didn't mind the smaller space. 

“I can't believe the building's just gone,” he sighed out, sinking down onto a chair. “But all the performers and animals made it out okay, and that's the most important thing. We can get together and build the circus back up again.”

“That's what my brother, Lettie and the others are trying to convince Barnum,” Anne agreed. “With Jenny Lind quitting the tour, I don't know where he'll find the money.”

“We'll figure it out,” Philip assured her, lifting a hand to stroke her cheek and slide into her hair. She leaned in until their foreheads touched. Their noses brushed and she trembled a little. Philip still wasn't used to being this intimate with her; his heart felt ready to burst out of his chest in happiness.

“Philip.” She spoke his name barely above a whisper. “You were right: I was meant to find you.”

“What about how everyone will look at us?”

Anne's eyes met his, and he saw that fiercely defiant gaze he knew and loved so well. “Let them look.”


	11. Home

Philip had to take it easy while his body healed. Judging by how the staff at the hospital reacted to him and Anne, it wasn't likely any doctors would be willing to help if he popped his stitches. In a way, being ignored by carriage drivers was a good thing: he needed the exercise to build up his muscles and get his lungs working, and all that rattling around would've aggravated his wound.

When he felt well enough, Philip went with Anne and the other performers to look over what was left of the circus. He prepared himself by reading all the articles about the fire in the paper, but it still came as a shock seeing rubble and ash instead of the beloved building. Philip felt a pain in his chest akin to visiting the grave of a friend. The faces around him told of a similar pain.

They took a moment to reflect on the loss before picking through the rubble. It was surreal to stand there in what should've been the building's interior, his mind easily conjuring imagines of how it looked just days ago. Philip knew the important pieces of the circus were the people around him, but he couldn't help wanting to salvage whatever else he could. They worked in relative silence for a while. Charles found a General Tom Thumb doll that survived with only minimal singeing, and Philip helped Anne unearth a trapeze hoop. He caught her gaze and they exchanged smiles, remembering the last time they were holding a hoop together.

That was when Barnum joined them. Philip could tell instantly from the older man's expression what happened: "The bank said no?"

They had all expected the famous Barnum humbug to get them through as always. But he wasn't the only one taking risks and making the impossible happen anymore. All Philip had to do was look around him to know he had accomplished these things, too. The circus had become a part of him, a place where he felt at home. Without financial backing their home was threatening to slip away. Philip didn't hesitate for a moment as he stepped up and offered what little he had to bring it back.

The performers cheered for him as he and Barnum shook on their new partnership. Philip swelled up with pride and pleasure. "The only problem is," he mentioned with a grimace, "I don't know how we're going to afford a building."

A familiar spark lit up Barnum's eyes. This, at least, was a problem he could solve. His infectious energy spread out to all of them. Philip could already picture the large tent they would need. The size itself would be eye-catching but if he knew Barnum, the color would be just as noticeable. Crowds would be drawn in just to see what the tent was hiding.

"Why don't we go down there right now?" Philip suggested. "Check out the space."

"Good idea," Barnum agreed. "No reason to waste time." Philip reached for Anne's hand and the others started to rise to their feet. That made Barnum pause. "All of us..?"

"They're a part of this, too," Philip reminded him. "It's their home." Barnum frowned, his eyes moving uncertainly over the faces of his performers. Philip felt Anne's hand twitch in his and he squeezed it tighter. Surely after all this, Barnum wouldn't push them to the side. After a silence that seemed to stretch on forever, Barnum nodded his acceptance, and there was a visible release of tension among the performers.

Barnum led the way with everyone else close behind him. His eyes drifted to where Philip and Anne's hands were linked, an eyebrow lifting and his lip curling up a little. "When did that start happening?"

"What do you mean?" Philip gave him a wry smile. "You're the one who introduced us." Barnum's eyes lingered on Philip and Anne's clasped hands for a moment longer, but said nothing more.

They eventually made their way to the land Barnum proposed they buy, spreading out to get a feel for the area and what they could do with it. When Philip closed his eyes, he could imagine the tide as the roar of an approving crowd. Anne guided him around to map out where they would have to position the various trapeze equipment so they could maximize space. As they walked, Philip overheard conversations on where to store costumes and where to keep the animals. Not once did he hear anyone worrying over costs or crowds or even protesters. Everyone was just too excited to rebuild to be concerned about any of those things.

They had no costumes or props; aside from the trapeze hoop they had nothing for W. D. and Anne; some of their animals were still missing; they had nowhere for the audience to sit except the grass; they couldn't even give out their famous peanuts. All of these problems went through Philip's mind to be quickly replaced by ideas on how to make their return all the more triumphant.

“What if we had our fire-eaters go on as the first act?” he suggested. “Anne, do you and W. D. think you can tumble through a ring of fire?”

“Absolutely,” she assured him.

“And the jugglers can use flaming torches,” Barnum added, catching on. “Tom, we can cover you in a bit of soot and give you a head injury like Philip's. You'll be a survivor of a great battle. We all survived and we're going to show this city they can't tear us down again!”

Everyone erupted into cheers and moved in close to embrace him. This time he welcomed them, until they were all pressed close like one unit.

Like a family.


	12. Ringmaster

It took a long time for Philip's head wound to completely heal and his side to no longer need stitches. In the meantime, he and the rest of the circus developed a routine of sorts. After breakfast he would head down to their spot by the docks to help finish cleaning up after last night's crowd. He went around making sure all the costumes, props, animals and equipment were set for the show. The performers would arrive around midday and they would all eat together. Then they would disperse to warm up while he went around town to bring in their audience.

Barnum liked waiting until the last possible moment before putting up the tent. Philip was sure the white and red stripes were on purpose to make it look like a target, and sure enough once it was erected the crowds formed wanting to see what was inside. When they first revived the circus, their audience was forced to sit on blankets and old bed sheets. Now they had wooden benches that circled the stage, with openings large enough for elephants to pass through on multiple sides.

As much as Philip enjoyed being behind the scenes preparing each act, he found himself missing being out there on stage with everyone. He did still go out to gear up the crowd for a few acts, most often W. D. and Anne, but usually he stood behind the benches watching. At least he still got to speak with the audience as they left and see all the joyful faces.

Still, he met the day he could get his stitches out with eager anticipation. As he suspected, no doctor wanted him to even come in the building if he was hand-in-hand with Anne. Eventually one of the performers offered to help. They warned that they only worked with fabric before, but Philip didn't have other options. Having Anne beside him helped the quick but painful process easier and the scar left behind would be a reminder of the moment they rewrote the stars.

Several nights later found Philip in his usual spot behind the bleachers. He always watched the opening act from that spot. It gave him a good view of everyone while surrounded by the energy of the crowd. Every opening was slightly different so even frequent customers wouldn't know quite what to expect. Philip loved hearing their gasps at each new surprise. Though he knew what was coming next, it felt like he was seeing it for the first time through them.

Then something happened that even Philip didn't see coming: Barnum broke away from his performers and headed directly toward Philip. The older man was grinning from ear to ear as he held out his black top hat.

“This is for you.” 

Philip's heart temporarily stopped in his chest, his mouth dropping open as he glanced between the hat and Barnum's face. He couldn't entirely believe what was happening. In his brief time as stand-in ringmaster, Philip never wore the hat. Barnum was the real ringmaster, after all; Philip was merely filling in. Barnum offering it to him now meant he wanted Philip to take over.

Philip put on the hat, fingers running along the brim as he glowed in pride. “What will you be doing?”

“Watching my girls grow up.” Barnum tossed his baton next, which Philip managed to catch. “The show must go on.”

Philip's eyes drifted from Barnum's face to the performers in the ring. He could be among them every night now. Excitement swelled in him and he could no longer contain himself. A huge grin spread out across his lips. He ran to them, sliding in at the last moment to make a show of his entrance.

Both his friends and the crowd greeted him with a roar of approval.

He reached for Anne and pulled her close to him. The two of them moved together under the colored lights as the music swelled up for the finale. The audience was too caught up in the magic and energy of this place to care what it meant for Philip and Anne to hold hands or have their bodies that close.

Philip swept her into his arms, removing his new hat so he could just be Philip and she could just be Anne. He pressed their lips together in a kiss. Anne didn't hesitate or try pulling away; her mouth responded, her fingers sliding around his neck to keep him close.

The crowd's response was drowned out by the beating of his heart. It didn't matter what they thought, anyway. Philip never felt more sure of his place in the world than in that moment.


	13. Extremely Visible

**Barnum Steps Down**

_Phineas Taylor Barnum, famous for founding the Barnum Circus, surprised his audience last night by stepping down from his position as ringmaster. During the opening act, Barnum stepped out of the ring and disappeared briefly through the audience seating. Moments later he was replaced by business partner Philip Carlyle who, after guiding the performers through the rest of the opening act, made the announcement that he was officially taking Barnum's place as ringmaster._

_Initially this was met with enthusiasm by the audience. Carlyle substituted for Barnum during Jenny Lind's tour and many enjoyed his different approach to the circus. However, Barnum's personality is a huge draw for many audience members and there is skepticism that Carlyle will be able to bring in the crowds._

_Carlyle was best known for his production of critically-acclaimed plays that held a successful tour of London before he became partners with Barnum. He wasted no time in cementing himself as much of a showman as his partner by sharing an intimate moment with one of his performers. The display was so shocking it caused some audience members to faint and others left before the performance ended. Barnum became famous for shocking his audience with the offensive and it seems Carlyle is following in his footsteps, but this display might have pushed things too far._

_“I don't mind watching the spooks from afar,” one audience member is quoted as saying, “but seeing him touch that [woman] was disgusting.”_

_“Frankly, I'm disappointed,” a concerned mother says. “Doesn't he know there are young children in the audience?”_

The article kept going but Philip decided he read enough. He expected a reaction like this after his kiss with Anne. Even the other performers were surprised, and they saw him and Anne being affectionate all the time. Philip sensed the restlessness of the crowd every time he went out to introduce a new act or when Anne and her brother performed. No one threw things or showed open hostility, but Philip got enough sense of it when he filled in for Barnum to know it was there. Thanks to this article, even those who weren't present would know what happened.

They didn't know what happened between him and Anne after it was over and the crowds were gone. Philip always assisted in taking down pieces and resetting others. He noted Anne's hands were trembling as she worked and he caught them in his own.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Her fingers curled tightly around his. “But I'm also scared. I don't know what they'll do to us now.”

“They're going to hate us,” Philip predicted, lifting a hand to brush back stray curls from her face. “But I wasn't going to let them make me feel ashamed of us, Anne. I made that mistake once and I promised myself never again. No matter what happens or how the rest of the world sees us, I love you, Anne Wheeler.”

He felt her shaking breath tease his lips and she drew closer, their noses brushing together. “I love you too, Philip Carlyle.”

She was the one closing the distance this time, her lips seeking his. He felt her tongue prod his mouth and he immediately parted his lips for her. Their bodies were pressed up so close Philip could feel her heart beating in time with his.

Thinking of that moment now gave Philip a rush of warmth. It carried him through his morning routine and followed him out to the docks. There a small group had gathered bearing angry signs. The moment they spotted him they shared shouting, some picking up loose trash and throwing it at him.

“The show's not until tonight, folks,” he told them calmly. “Please come back then.”

“You really think we want to come back to watch you and your spook whore?” one of them snapped back. “You're disgusting!” another added. “You ruined the circus forever!” shouted a third.

“Please.” He refused to show any of them anger or fear. “We need to clean up. Go home.” He stared them down until they finally dispersed, though not before one of them spat in his face.

Like Barnum said, the show must go on. So after wiping the spit off his face, Philip set about cleaning up the trash and getting everyone ready for another performance that night. Maybe this was how Barnum felt when he first started his museum. He risked so much without even knowing if people would buy a single ticket. He did all of it for his family.

For Philip, the people of the circus were his family. He would do everything he could to keep them together and make the circus successful. Even if that meant the circus would have to move on to another city.

They weren't limited by a building anymore, after all. He couldn't risk protests and escalating anger, so if the people here couldn't accept them, they could always go somewhere else. The crowds would always be there to amaze and delight-- or shock and offend.


	14. Their Place

The steady rumble of train wheels on the track became a familiar sound to Philip, and he grew so used to feeling the vibrations of the car that stepping onto steady ground was always a bit disorienting. Amazing how far away his old life felt at times; it was hard to believe little more than a year had gone by since his fateful encounter with P. T. Barnum. Even within the confines of the train, Philip didn't feel trapped or suffocated as he did back then. If he grew restless, it was only because he was eager to amaze their next audience.

He took a walk through the cars to check in on everyone before they reached their next destination. They were all enthusiastic and supportive when he told them of his plan to take their act across the country. At first they missed the regulars who would come to every performance in New York, but they soon took the new cities as challenges. How long would it take to win over a crowd and would they come back for more the next night? Philip doubted a building could have held the energy of his performers when they went out onto the ring.

Everyone was stretching out their limbs as he moved through. Philip learned the value of this the hard way. Going by train was the best way to move so many across the country, but it resulted in stiff bodies. Philip was still working out how long to give the performers to prepare before the first show.

He hadn't kissed Anne in front of an audience since that first night. Not because he was ashamed, but because he didn't want to turn their relationship into a spectacle. In front of a crowd their affection was more subtle: an affectionate glance, a brush of fingers along their back, holding hands. Once out of their costumes, though, they showed as much affection as they wanted. Even as people stared, called them all sorts of names, threw things at them.

When the hate got really bad, he and Anne would go back to the circus tent and sit together in a trapeze ring. It felt like nothing could touch them once they were off the ground. They would stay up there as long as needed, talking and exchanging kisses.

The train ground to a halt and everyone went to work unloading the cars. By now this was a fairly simple process, though the animals always gave them trouble. Philip went around helping as best he could.

“Anne!” He caught her hand before she could slip away to check on the trapeze equipment. “Will you meet me in the ring tonight?”

Worry flashed across her face. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing. I just want to fly with you.” She gave him one of her amazing smiles and promised with a kiss she would be there.

The rest of the day was spent setting up the tent and spreading the word about the circus. The more they traveled, the easier it became to convince people to attend their show. Rather than hide his acts away like Barnum would, Philip encouraged them to go through town. He took his own advice by completing a few errands while talking up the show as much as he could. It encouraged him how eager people already were to buy tickets, though the performance wouldn't be for another night.

He headed back to the tent as it was growing dark. Anne was already there waiting for him with the trapeze ring lowered. Philip put an arm around her and guided her down onto the slender metal, his grip tightening slightly as they rose off the ground. One of her hands moved just behind his shoulders to grasp the top of the ring. She smiled at him, letting this position draw her closer to him.

“This is where I want to be,” she whispered to him.

“For the rest of your life?” he asked. They were so close he was sure she would feel the nervous tremor of his breath. Anne's eyes met his and he felt the world stop just as it did when they first met.

“Yes.”

Philip's heart jumped a little in his chest. “So you'll marry me?” Anne's eyes snapped wide in surprise, her muscles tensing. It took her a moment to find words.

“Philip, we can't-- no church or judge in the country would let us.”

“Then we won't ask them,” he concluded. Anne pulled a frown and looked ready to argue it wasn't that easy, but in Philip's eyes it was. “It doesn't matter what the rest of the world says; all I care about is _your_ answer, Anne. Do you want to marry me?”

Anne took in a shaky breath. Slowly her fingers slipped from the trapeze ring so Philip would be all that kept her from falling. Instead she rested her hand on his cheek. “Yes.” The simple word warmed his whole body. His own free hand lifted to curl into her hair, pulling her in for a kiss. Her arms linked around the back of his neck to keep close as their mouths and tongues moved together. When they parted he could see Anne's eyes were bright. Her lips curled up into a smile.

“How did you get to be so brave?”

Philip couldn't help smirking at that. “I learned from the best.” He kissed her again, and even after their feet touched the ground he still felt like he was flying with her. 

This was everything he would ever want.


End file.
